#please I would be so happy if this existed

[55sturn]

“but yours is better!”

pairing: luke danes coded [ grumpy]!matt sturniolo x lorelai gilmore coded [ sunshine ]!reader

inspo/creds: pls help me find the user who wrote luke danes coded!matt bc i know someone has written this !!

as you sat in the diner, you could help but anxiously tap your finger against the rim of your mug, you knew matt would chastise you the second you walked up the counter begging for another cup of coffee. but you couldn’t help it, there was just something so addictive about the way he made coffee. and maybe, just maybe, something in and about the banter the two of you shared, was addictive too.

you flash matt a sweet, charming grin as you tentatively step toward the counter, sheepishly sliding your mug toward him as he rolls his eyes, the ghost of a smirk toying at his lips.

“please matt. please, please, please.” you plead as he sighs, he knows he’ll serve you the coffee, hell he would serve you as much coffee as he could just to hear that content sigh that slips out every time you get a mug of matt’s coffee. he would do just about anything for you if you asked, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to reprimand you for the amount you consume or remind you how unhealthy coffee is for you.

“how many cups have you had this morning alone?” he grunts, wiping down a dirty spot at the counter, purposely directing his focus and scrubbing at a dirty spot that didn’t exist just so he doesn’t cave or melt the second he looked into your eyes.

“none.” you lie, hoping he would just overlook it and fill your mug with what you think is the smoothest and coziest thing this world had to offer.

“plus?”

“okay, five, but yours is better!” you grovel, batting your eyelashes at the man across from you, and you can see the corner of his lips twitch before he turns around, grabbing the pot of coffee before turning back to you,

“you have a problem.” he scoffs, watching you shrug, chuckling at him as he rolls his eyes playfully and crosses his arms, ignoring the one annoying customer, who happens to be his brother chris, waving him down in the corner.

“yes i do.” you admit, not an ounce of shame or regret written on your face as you slide the mug across the steel counter, and he sighs before hooking his finger over the rim of your mug and pulling it to him, filling it, watching as you dance happily before taking the mug with a cheeky grin on your face.

“junkie.” he hums, shaking his as you take a sip of your coffee, smiling at him as you swallow it, and he tries to ignore the shiver it sends down his spine.

“angel. you got wings baby.” you laugh, thanking him in your own weird and endearing way, and the pet name sends a warm tingle through his body as the tips of his ears turn pink, and you’re none the wiser to the way you make the usually grumpy and stoic man who can’t tear his eyes away from your retreating figure feel and melt the second you flash a smile his way.

god he was helplessly in love with you. the way matt loves you, is the way you love coffee, it was as if you were his own version of coffee personified. warm, inviting, and all consuming. you had such a vibrant, hard to ignore yet hard not to love personality. and he was hooked on you, he has been since the very first time you stepped through the door all wide eyed and curious, while demanding all the attention in the room. he would fill every mug at his disposal with coffee, if it meant you had all you needed to be happy.

STAR’S CORNER a possible intro to a lil au that i might continue !!

and honestly idk why i wrote this, i just love when people compare matt and luke and say that matt’s luke danes coded bc they’re so right, and tbh it combines my two special interests.

[marzipanandminutiae]

(sorry to keep reblogging this with Paragraphs, followers; I just keep having Responses come to mind)

so, I understand where you're coming from and as we've both said, I think we largely agree.

however, where you 're still losing me is the idea that correcting misgendering of oneself specifically in a "casual setting" is too far

saying "I don't like this for myself, so don't use conventionally gendered terms as neutral, ever?" bad! we both agree on that!

however. I don't think that there's any scenario in which it's unacceptable to- politely! -correct someone. I will ask someone to please not call me "bro" in casual conversation. I will keep reminding them if they keep saying it. I will make like Janet in The Good Place and cheerfully say "not a bro!" every time, whether they Use It Like That All The Time And See It As Gender-Neutral or not, because...I don't. and basic respect would be making an effort not to call me that.

to me, this is the same as correcting someone who uses the wrong pronouns. mistakes happen and nobody is perfect, but the onus is on the other person to at least try respecting someone else's gender- not on the person being misgendered to let it slide and be uncomfortable for the sake of keeping this person happy

(actually I do avoid using "dude" or "guys" to refer to new non-male friends unless I know they're okay with it, but that may be too much to expect of everyone)

individual gender is a personal thing. it doesn't exist to further any particular sociopolitical ideal; it's about how you live your life and what makes you feel comfortable, happy, and true to yourself. anything goes, and anything should be respected by others. so it's not "enforcing strict gender roles" for someone to have a binary gender and politely ask that they, personally, not be referred to with gendered terms outside of it

I also find the framing of this as "policing language" concerning. to me, that's framing an Interpersonal Communication issue as Structural, with the implied idea that one has to be comfortable with all conventionally gendered terms being used for them or one is somehow letting the progressive side down, so to speak. if correcting pronouns isn't policing- and it's not, IMO -neither is "please don't call me [dude/guy/bro/girl/queen/bad bitch]; thank you"

yeah you're up on all of the latest preferred queer terminology but do you respond normally when a woman asks you not to call her Bro, Bruh, Dude, Guy, etc.?

[cryptictongues]

Manifesting a Valentine

pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader rating: PG-13 (mildly) word count: 2.6K summary: You wonder what Logan is to you. Whitney Houston manifests that answer for you. warnings: this is just straight up fluff, gender-neutral reader, kissing

This is my piece for the Loveuary Writing Challenge created by @lubdubology and @yxtkiwiyxt, which was a wonderful thing they both set up. I got assigned 2000s Logan with the song 'I Will Always Love You' by Whitney Houston. I had a lot of fun writing this, especially since I took a different approach to it. All I will say is my inspiration was this video right here.

Enjoy!

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

There is dust dancing in the air, swirling in the fumes of disinfectant. They float and falter, only to seemingly disintegrate as they hit the wooden floor. There are piles of clothes, some in need of folding and some waiting to take a ride in the washing machine. Papers and books are pushed into a corner, waiting to return as you organize your writing utensils and silly trinkets.

You need to stop pushing off the task of cleaning your room, but it can’t be helped. Juggling being a teacher to a multitude of students and going on missions for Charles as an X-Man, your free time is slim to none. By the time the day is over, all you want to do is flop onto your bed and sleep until morning breaks. The idea of being more productive than you already were was exhausting to think about.

Yet here you are on a Friday evening, Walkman blasting music into your headphones as you run the rag across your desk, the wood sparkling from cleaner that smelled of citrus. 

A hodgepodge of tunes played one after the other as the CD spun, all being love songs for the season of February. Some were simply romantic and joyous, while others played the melancholiest of sounds. It didn’t matter what kind of love song it was; you loved them all.

Valentine's Day was always a holiday you adored. Growing up, your family would always use it as an excuse to get together. While it has always been viewed as a time for romance, your family saw it as a time to celebrate the familial side of love. It created a cherished feeling for the season, especially with having a family that loved you no matter what. Even when all you saw was romance, your heart was happy.

At least, that was the case until a certain man came into the forefront of your existence.

Logan Howlett was something else. The first time you saw him, he was walking down the hall with the Professor getting the grand tour. You didn’t think someone could look so attractive in a jacket with the school emblem on it, but damn. The skin that pulled against his exposed collar bones made you want to sink your teeth into him. 

It started as a small crush for a while. Even as an adult, you’ve always been fairly reserved around people unfamiliar to you. So, like a fly on the wall, you would look from afar, studying him closely. You would drink him in as he made himself more comfortable and it wasn’t until you accidentally made eye contact with him that your lives started to tightly intertwine.

You could feel your face heat up as you thought about how close you two have gotten. You wouldn’t say the two of you are inseparable, but it’s pretty damn close. Every time you come back from an errand, he is there waiting for you. Every morning, he is waiting for you in the kitchen to have breakfast together. Most evenings after the school day is done, he is meeting with you in your room to enjoy his cigar while you wind down with your secret stash of wine. It's become apparent to you that you are his go to, and it would be a lie to say he isn’t yours as well. You enjoy his company, which has transformed your feelings into something far greater.

You wouldn’t know what to call your relationship with him. You know it’s nothing super serious, but you feel the potential for it to be. You see how different he is with you; how his crass attitude seems to change into something much more sincere and open. You think he is much like you; the more he opens up, the more he shows he cares. Even so, you aren’t sure he would allow himself to indulge in the idea of belonging to someone. 

The thought alone dampers your mood slightly, causing your shoulders to sag slightly. As much as you love this time of the year, having Logan so close yet not quite in your grasp makes your heart crazed. You crave his companionship, and oh what you wouldn’t give to have it. 

You wonder if he has Valentine's Day plans but knowing him you highly doubt it. You’d bet money that he doesn't even know the 14th is tomorrow, the days and months meshing together. Maybe you’ll do something for him anyways, like buy him some quality cigars or good whiskey to hide with your stash of alcohol. Maybe you could run out tonight and grab something. 

In the midst of your thoughts, you hear Whitney Houston’s rich voice travel through your ears, causing you to perk up.

“Oh yes!” You whisper with excitement. “I haven’t heard this song in a while.” 

You twirl over to your door, cracking it to help air out the fumes of disinfectant and wood polish. You grab the broom and start to sweep, humming along to the song until it’s too hard to resist opening your mouth.

“And IIIIIII will always love youuuuu,” you sing out, enunciating Whitney’s range as you brush away the remnants of dust and junk that found itself stranded on the floor. 

There was something about this song that always drew you in. It’s a love song, yet it’s bittersweet. It’s a song that truly encapsulates loving someone so much that you must set them free. Maybe you love it because it’s a way for you to empathize, or it’s preparing you for the day you may have to let someone go with love. A small part of your mind wonders if you are already doing that with Logan, but it quickly vanishes; it’s just you and Whitney.

You can’t help but sing into the broom, dancing in circles that slightly scatter your dust bunny piles, but you could care less. When the sax solo plays, you hold the broom up front with fingers moving sporadically along the wooden handle. You make noises trying to replicate the sound of the alto, dipping back and forth recreating movements you’ve seen saxophone players make. You’re in the zone now; immersed in a dream as you sing along without a care in the world. Little did you know, there was someone watching you from your door.

Soon enough, you find yourself on your bed, broom being held like a mic stand, dipping down into a low bow before the climax of the song hits. You take a deep breath, preparing to unleash the iconic phrase and pitch from past your lips.

“AND IIIIIIIIIIIII EEEEEEE IIIIIIII WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOOOUUUUU,” your back goes back in an arch, lungs working overtime as air rushes out. You can’t hear yourself, and you know rather than the beautiful sound of Whitney Houston, you probably sound insane. You didn’t care though. 

Well, you didn’t until your eyes landed on your now closed door, a body leaning against it with a smug grin on the face of the person who has infiltrated every part of your daily life. 

Oh God… Logan…

“So, this is what you’ve been up to all evening.” 

The broom drops from your hands, falling to the floor with a clank as your embarrassment permeates the room. 

“Um… how long have you been standing there?”

He pushes off the door, hands behind his back as he continues towards you. “Long enough to see that stellar sax solo of yours.”

If your face could get redder, you’d be a maraschino cherry.

“So stellar in fact, I think I need a listen.” 

“I’m not performing for you again,” you huff. “This is so embarrassing.” 

“While I’d love to see and hear you again, I was talking about what you were listening to, sweetheart.”

You pause, looking at him confused. “You’ve never heard of Whitney Houston’s ‘I Will Always Love You’?”

“Should I?”

“Um yes!” You proclaim, arms shooting up into the air. “It’s one of the best love songs ever written and performed! Are you telling me you don’t listen to music?” 

He is standing in front of you, and he’s tall enough to be leveled with your chest. His face tilts up, and you can’t help but notice the way he’s looking at you: both light-hearted and full of adoration that shows through the crows feet. It makes your heart race.

“Not many love songs play in a dingy, underground fighting ring,” he grins, raspy tone pleasant to your ears. “Come on, sit down. Give me a listen.” 

You hear rustling behind him but quickly shift attention when he sits down, putting whatever’s in his hands out of your line of sight. You move to sit down beside him, removing your Walkman from the pouch on your hip. Your left leg is almost touching his right one, the heat begging to transfer with one touch. You remove your headphones, moving to put them over Logan’s ears, the band pressing down the points of his hair.

You giggle at this. “There go your cat ears.”

You go to shift the track back, and as you get ready to hit play, you feel a cushioned headphone against your ear. You turn and Logan’s face is very close to yours.

“What are you doing, Logan?” 

“About to give this song you love so much a listen, but I want you to listen with me.” He smirks. “Is that okay, sweetheart?”

He’s going to be the end of me. What’s with him tonight?

You can’t speak so you nod, pressing play to let the song take its form. His eyes closed as he listened, allowing you to watch his facial movements as he reacted. You could see every crease and divot shift as he listened intently. You looked for key reactions during certain parts of the song, your lips quirking up when a smile appeared on his face.

A chuckle rumbles from his chest when the saxophone solo starts, your eyebrow raising in response. “What’s so funny?”

He doesn’t answer, just shakes his head as the song enters the third verse. You see him lock in, smile fading slightly as the song rolls on. You wonder what he’s thinking; what is Whitney telling him? It isn’t until she belts out the final chorus that his smile returns tenfold, making the butterflies fluttering in your belly go crazy.

The song fades out, and before the next track can play you press pause. There is a beat of silence before you pull away from the headphone, looking at Logan with a curiosity to know what his brain is churning. 

“Soooo, what do you think?”

Logan looks to ponder, his fingers messing with the hem of your shirt. You feel the rough skin of his fingertips graze your tummy ever so slightly, causing a shiver to run down your spine. This moment is so intimate and for the first time you are seeing a vulnerability that Logan has never expressed before. 

“I think…” he draws out, eyes lifting to meet yours. “I think I understand why you danced like no one’s watching, especially during the sax solo.”

You groan, face going into your hands with words muffled as he laughs. “You are so unserious. That’s all you got from this?”

“Oh, trust me. I got a lot more than you probably bargained for.” 

You peek from between your fingers, hands becoming hot from the blood rush in your cheeks. You feel his hands wrap around your wrists, pulling your hands into his. “Did you know there is a Wolverine Alto Saxophone?”

You gawk at him, pushing against his hands playfully. “You’re so full of shit.”

“They don’t make them anymore. Fairly rare and a little hot headed but…” Logan brings both your hands to your hips, his own flipping on top with a slight grip that causes you to squeeze your flesh. “I’m sure the right player could handle it just fine.”

“Logan, are you flirting with me?” Your heart is racing, your mind controlling its speed as it goes 100 miles per second. 

“Is it working?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Because if it is, I think you should play me sometime.”

Your breath comes out shaky, nerves racking your body. This is the closest you have ever been to being with him. You are so close to having an answer as to what you two are; what you two could be. You wonder what has gotten into him. What pushed this on? 

A laugh comes from under your breath. “You are something else, you know that?”

“Hmm,” he hums, moving closer to you so his face is mere inches from yours. “What can I say? I can’t help myself.”

“Is that so? And why is that?” You challenge, hoping for him to say what you want to hear.

“I’ve got someone in my life who likes to press my buttons without even trying, and I think I wanna start pressing theirs too.”

“Wow,” you breathe out. “You’re good.”

“Yeah? Then show me.” His lips are almost on yours, a smirk plastered on his kissable lips. “Show me how good I am.”

You nod, leaning fully in to press your lips to his. He groans against your mouth; a sound so delightful it makes your skin raise. You remove your hands from under his, moving to his biceps to ground yourself. You can finally feel his grip on you, and it’s secure. He kisses you with a purpose, his movements precise, and it draws you in. It creates a gravitational pull between the two of you, your hands pulling on him and his own pulling your hips. Next thing you know, he is almost on top of you. 

“Mmm,” he purrs. “You taste so sweet, baby.”

You pull away slightly, his lips chasing yours for a moment before you steady him. “Yeah? Well, you’re fun to play.”

His shoulders shake as he chuckles, going in for another round before he pauses. “Before I forget…”

He sits back up, reaching behind him as he grabs something that crinkles. You try to peek over his shoulder, curiosity getting the better of you, only for him to face you once more. Your eyes go wide as you see the bouquet of daisies in his hand, white tissue wrapping keeping them together. 

You are in awe. You can’t remember the last time someone got you flowers. “These are for me?”

“They sure are,” He smiles with crinkled eyes. “Had to get flowers for my Valentine.”

You look down bashfully, tongue drawing over your lower lip, tasting remnants that are so him. “I didn’t think you’d care about Valentine’s Day.”

“You said you love Valentine’s Day. Seems right to celebrate my baby’s favorite time of the year.”

My baby…

He hands you the flowers, and you cradle them in your arms. They are lively and simply beautiful; a fresh, sweet scent floating up to your nose. Everything about this moment is sweet, and the flowers make it even sweeter.

“Soooo,” you draw out. “Does this mean you want to make things official?”

“Official?” He takes the flowers from your hands gently, placing them on the floor before pulling you onto his lap. You yelp as he squeezes you to him, vibrating with the urgency to be close. “I sure like the sound of that.”

You lean your head against his shoulder, feeling yet another wave of shyness at how he holds and looks at you. It’s something new, and it blossoms in your chest as he slowly rocks you with kisses against the side of your face. All you can think is that you love him, and you can’t help but think he loves you too.

Thank God for love and Thank God for Whitney Houston. 

[akawifeyy]

MIC CHECK | smau & fic (LN4)

description: lando norris is the host of one of the most critically acclaimed podcasts. so when he contacts you, asking if you'd like a spot on the show, you're dumbstruck.

tropes: secretly in love, happy ending, age gap (22 and 25), podcast host!lando au, lead singer!reader

face claim: ayra starr

trigger warnings: suggestive content, swearing

| note: i actually would love to see lando host a podcast or a talk show, i think he'd be wonderful!

It was a universal fact believed by every celebrity phenomenon that being selected for one of the exclusive spots on Lando Norris’s podcast was an honor. Once a week, the infamous Formula One driver would host an audio show, interviewing other popular figures with his signature charming wit and humor. He had been doing it for over a year, finding enough spare time in his busy racing schedule to compose, edit, and publish some of the best comedic episodes of the modern era. His show had even been nominated and won an iHeartRadio Podcast Award.

Lando’s show was beloved by all audiences, even those who were unfamiliar with motorsports. They came because of the hype and stayed for the easy laughter and fun times. 

So when you, the lead singer of the Cherry Soda girl band, found a bolded, urgent email lurking on the top of your page, titled: Season 2, Episode 5 of Lights Out with Lando Norris, you were in shock.

Your jaw dropped, fingers shaking as you clicked to read more. This had to be a joke. There was no way the Lando Norris would have selected you of all people for one of these coveted episodes.

Yes, your band was popular – you had recently sold out the Caesar’s Superdome for a one-night-only concert – but still! A Grand Prix-winning sensation knew of your existence, and wanted to talk to you!

You skimmed through the page, soaking in each word, your heart pounding faster as everything registered in your mind.

Dear Y/N L/N, 

You have been chosen to co-host Season 2, Episode 5 of Lights Out with Lando Norris, filming next Wednesday (Feb. 14) at 12:00 GMT. Please register below, as the link given will grant you access to the Zoom meeting room where the interview will be conducted.

Thank you.

It was short and sweet, but it seemed utterly surreal. For the rest of the day, you could not focus on anything else, your attention consistently tugged back to the email gleaming bright in your inbox. As soon as the day ended, and you wrapped up the rest of your work (writing out some plans for your next gig and scribbling down some lyrics), you registered.

Another email popped up soon after, thanking you once again for your quick reply. When you left the office, you nearly stumbled down the front steps in your dream-like haze. Even by midnight, hours past your usual bedtime, you were still mesmerized by the events of the day, surprised at the magnetic pull you must have had in order to garner such attention.

Marketing Poster for "Lights Out with Lando Norris", featuring Y/N L/N (2025):

Across the continent, Lando Norris was equally, if not more, distracted. He'd finally secured an episode on his show for you, something he'd been aiming to do since its foundation. Every time he thought he'd be able to, someone suggested an alternate celebrity, one that would generate better press and higher profits. It's not like Lando needed more money (he was nearly drowning in it), but he didn't want to be awkward or rude to his fans, who supported him so fervently.

But! After ages and ages, Lando had convinced the powers that be to let you on the show, and it had worked. Just a handful of days remained until he'd be able to talk to you, someone he'd admired since the start of your career.

Oscar and Max had teased him about it endlessly, telling him not to be a muppet, and Lando had prayed that he wouldn't be.

Then, the day had arrived.

Lando woke up that morning in a cold sweat, his body tense and hands shaking.

My nervous system really can't tell the difference between being held at gunpoint and talking to a woman I like, huh?, he thought to himself, annoyed, as he shaved his beard in the mirror and nearly dropped the razor.

He ate a few bites of his oatmeal, but couldn't finish it, his stomach was roiling so badly. It was ridiculous how worried he was. He'd conducted almost thirty interviews by this point, but yours was the one he was tripped up over.

Well, of course he was. You were funny, smart, and not to mention, absolutely stunning. There was no way he wasn't going to stutter and make a fool of himself.

Lando sat down in front of his laptop, the mic poised right in front of him. Two minutes until noon. He took a deep breath and clicked to start the recording.

Here goes nothing.

Snippets from the Interview:

Lando Norris: Tell me about your newest hit, "The Outside", and its backstory.

Y/N L/N: Basically, I am part of a larger group known as the Cherry Soda girl band. It's me, my guitarist Lanie, my saxophonist and bassist Amina, my pianist Izzy, and my drummer Aiko. We are all members of the BIPOC community. We are all people of color. And this song is our anthem, talking about the discrimination we have faced. Prejudice still is very evident, very prominent in society, and this song takes the point of view of someone who deals with it every day.

Lando Norris: That's incredible. Did you write it all on your own?

Y/N L/N: No, definitely not! (laughs) I had a lot of input from the other Cherry Soda girls, and I also talked to other people in my community. I'm currently in the process of creating a version of the song that has other people's voices in it. It takes inspiration from Paris Paloma's song "LABOUR", which does something very similar, and I'm going to credit her. Her work is incredible.

Lando Norris: So, why did you decide to form the Cherry Soda band?

Y/N L/N: And why did you decide to become a Formula One driver? Because it was my destiny, I knew that this was the path I am supposed to follow. Since I was little, I've been crafting songs and performing at talent shows. I've known the other girls since my days in secondary school, and we've always had this dream. It took a lot of hard work to make it a reality, but here we are.

Lando Norris: Cheeky.

Y/N L/N: Sorry! I didn't mean to be rude. (giggles)

Email from Lando Norris to Y/N (2025):

Two Weeks Later:

Interviewer: Your last episode with Y/N L/N on "Lights Out" was a hit! Will she be returning to the show?

Lando Norris: Unfortunately, she can't for the foreseeable future. She's going on tour, so she'll be very busy.

Interviewer: What a shame.

Poster for the "Fairytale" Tour, featuring Y/N L/N (2025):

Lando entered the Ticketmaster queue, his fingers crossed as he waited to purchase tickets for your tour in Los Angeles. If it didn't work out, he was screwed.

"You could just ask her directly," Oscar had pointed out unhelpfully. It was the epitome of embarrassing if Lando contacted you again and begged for tickets. No, he'd get it the normal way, and surprise you.

You are number 190 in line.

Lando breathed a sigh of relief, sinking in his chair. The arena had over 15000 seats, so he would absolutely be able to grab seats for him, Oscar, and Max.

When the screen reloaded to show available spots, Lando frantically tapped to select three tickets in the VIP section of the lower bowl. He didn't even look at the cost.

None of it mattered, if it meant he'd be able to see you again.

@ cherrysodagirls.updates: Opening night ✓

tagged: @ cherrysodagirls, @ yourusername, & 4 others

comments (10452):

@ user1: HAD THE BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE!!!!

@ user2: hearing "the outside" live was a life-altering moment 🙏🏻

@ user3: So indebted to this band, I survived 2023 because of them

-> @ user4: they helped me get through a rough patch too. it's comforting to know how much music heals people ❤️‍🩹

@ landonorris: Awesome performance! Can't wait to see the rest of your tour and what you accomplish!

-> @ user5: we love men supporting women <3

-> @ user6: He wants her so bad omg

A Month Later

@ ln4lore: Pictures from @ yourusername and the Cherry Soda band's recent event at the SoFi Stadium, where Lando Norris was in attendance!

tagged: @ landonorris, @ yourusername, @ cherrysodagirls

comments (8371):

@ user7: AWEEE

@ user8: Slide 3 is hilarious omg, I can't stop laughing 😂

-> @ user5: THE UPSIDE DOWN GLASSES ARE SOOO SILLY

@ user9: Oh they together frrrr

You exited the backstage, your hair pulled up in a tight ponytail as sweat beaded on your skin. Another completed night full of raucous laughter and chorus singing, and you were exhausted.

As much as you were grateful for the opportunity to perform in front of an audience of thousands of people, you couldn't deny the fact that it sucked up all your energy.

You held the support bar as you walked down the stairs, your eyes scanning for the exit, where your limousine was waiting for you. The other girls had left almost as soon as the show was over, but you'd opted to stay behind and help with the clean-up process. It was the least you could do after the show you'd put on. All the confetti was a janitor's nightmare.

Your eyes snagged on a familiar figure, his head held high as he waited for you to walk over. Lando Norris.

Rumors had spread that he was in attendance tonight, but you'd chosen not to linger on it. He was extremely cute and interested in you, and exactly what you wanted in a boyfriend. If you were to have one, of course.

Lando grinned at you. "Congratulations, your show was amazing," he gushed, cheeks turning pink. "Your voice is like an angel."

"Thanks," you responded, smiling back shyly.

He tilted his head down, averting his eyes, suddenly embarrassed. "I really like you, Y/N. You're unbelievable."

"The feelings are mutual."

Lando's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Really?"

You nodded. "You're funny, and you went through the effort to surprise me by attending one of my concerts. And you waited another two hours afterwards. That's very kind of you."

"Can I take you home, then?" he inquired bashfully.

You pretended to mull over it, not wanting to seem overeager, and inclined your head.

"You may."

The rest of that night, Lando showed you just how proud he was of you, worshiping every inch of your body like a mortal kneeling at the altar of a goddess.

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

[mononijikayu]

kayu's playlist — side 2500;

The question is somehow inevitable. No matter how many interviews you do for anything you do, no matter how much you try to steer the conversation toward your work, it always circles back to your personal life. "Are you dating any of your coworkers or friends?" It’s phrased casually, like an afterthought, but you know better. The tabloids, the press have been relentless. But what do you expect?

You were intriguing. It was as if you wanted them to chase after you. It's like you wanted them to keep up with you, like it was a game. And people like to play.

hello this is kayu!!! wow, i'm really surprised and overwhelmed that people continue to follow up with me and read my work and it's just, its been an incredible two years!!! it's genuinely such an overwhelming feeling, to be so adored by so many of you. thank you for 2.5k followers!!! i never expected that i'll ever end up in this position where i'd get such an opportunity to write and read and experience multiple lifetimes through all of this with you guys. its still just an incredible situation, a privileged one, to be able to be with yall like this. and i don't take it for granted. i don't meet up a lot of my friends nowadays, because we're all growing older and doing other things. so in some ways, you guys have become new friends and comfort me in my own grievances in life. so i am grateful, to have some people in my life like you all. there will be many things that changes, but i hope you know its always an honor to write for you and be a writer that comforts people and makes people feel things. i genuinely am so happy to do things like this and know that you both of us find comfort in it. this playlist will not exist if it wasn't for your love, none of this would exist without your love. so i am grateful. i always will be. and i hope you know how much i love yall. please enjoy this little gift, from me to you and that you always know how much i adore all of you. i'll see you starting this week!!! i love you all <3

when people ask you in interviews if you're dating, you end up smiling and saying 'spoilers'. but all they had to do was analyze your instagram to see why you smile so slyly. and when they do, all they can do is gasp. guess what? there's two of them!

There were too many pictures of you leaving dinner with Geto Suguru, laughing backstage with Satoru Gojo, leaning a little too close in some candid shot taken at a party. Or sometimes you would be dancing around with Nanami Kento at an afterparty wrap up, or end up drinking at a cafe with Kamo Choso. Fans dissect every interaction, every glance, every social media post, desperate to piece together a narrative. That's just how it was, when you're a known name. So you think to yourself, you might as well play the game too. I mean, they don't mind. So, you smile. A slow, knowing smile, just enough to fuel the curiosity. You could shut it down with a simple no, or confirm something with a straightforward yes, but where’s the fun in that? Instead, you lean forward slightly, letting the moment stretch just enough to build anticipation. With a teasing glint in your eye, you simply say with a grin."Spoilers." The interviewer laughs, caught between amusement and frustration. The audience reacts instantly, murmurs rippling through the room, tweets flying in real time. Just like that, you’ve sidestepped the question without giving anything away, while making sure the speculation never dies down. It’s a game at this point. And it's one you’re more than happy to keep playing. A text comes through. And then another. 'you're a vixen, aren't you?' 'well, aren't you fun to play with, baby ;)))' You smirked at the messages.

you took him back, and you do love him. but toji knows that you will never love him the way you did back then. that's why he knows when you're not home, you'll be in someone else's bed. and all he can do is swallow his pride. after all, you'll always come back home to him. like he does.

Fushiguro Toji reads the headlines with a scowl, jaw tightening as his eyes flick over the words on the newspaper. He doesn't read it often, if he was being honest. But the more he sees more about it, the more he knows he can't avoid it. "Co-stars or Something More? Sparks Fly Between Y/N L/N and Nanami Kento on Set." Tch. Too well, huh? He scoffs, but the irritation sits heavy in his chest. Every article, every damn picture of you laughing with Nanami, standing close to him, looking at him like he’s the only one in the room. It grates on his nerves more than he wants to admit. Jealousy curls in his gut, sharp and bitter. But what right does he have to say anything? None. Not after what he did. Not after the way he shattered everything between you. He cheated. He ruined it. He was the one who left you picking up the pieces, and if Nanami Kento—or anyone else, for that matter—was helping you put them back together, what could he really say? Still, the thought of you moving on, of someone else having your smiles, your time, your heart. Everything about it drives him insane. He exhales sharply, tossing his phone onto the table. It’s his own damn fault, and he knows it. Doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

you and sukuna have gone through everything together. from all the hardships of his late night practice to your continuous studies making you tear up. to every misunderstanding and to every fight, there was one thing that brought you both back together. and that's the warmth of love.

Ryomen Sukuna leans against the counter, arms crossed, staring down at the contract like it personally offended him.

The offer from the national volleyball team is everything he’s worked for. It's all he's every wanted since he was a kid. It was everything he'd risk everything for. And yet, he hesitates. “You’re thinking too hard, 'kuna.” you tease, nudging his side. “This is a no-brainer, Sukuna. You should go for it.” He doesn’t respond right away, just clicks his tongue and exhales through his nose. You recognize that look on his face. It was hard to miss. It was the one where he’s overanalyzing, masking his real concern behind a layer of indifference. Finally, he mutters, “I’d miss your graduation. You said it was that date, right? The first game is during your graduation.” Your chest tightens at that. He says it like it’s just a fact, but you can hear the frustration underneath. The regret. Your boyfriend always feels like he's going to miss so much on what you have going on. He doesn't like it, that he can't be there for you the way you are. You smile, softer this time. “And I’d miss seeing you play on the national team if you don’t take this. We’ll make up for it, I promise.” His gaze flickers to yours, searching. “…You sure?” “Absolutely.” You step closer, squeezing his hand. “I’ll be cheering for you from where-ever I am. Whether I’m in the crowd or watching from a screen. So go. Do what you were meant to do.” He holds your stare for a moment longer before exhaling, shaking his head with a smirk. “Tch. You’re annoying.” But when he finally signs the contract, you don’t miss the way his grip on your hand lingers. He looks at you and you couldn't help but smile. You loved this man too much.

[uceyliyahh]

FRIENDS

Summary: “Heart on your sleeve like you've never been loved,” After being in an abusive relationship Imani decided to close herself off until she gets drafted over to the Raw Brand bumping into her best friend Jimmy as she started to catch feelings for him, but will her heart let her fall for him?

Jimmy Uso x Imani Blackwood

word count: 5232

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

Again mdni you have been warned.

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️ @pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @ctinadiva @celesteheartsjey @duhitzkay380 @luuvprincess @bunnnyyys @mzv11 @nbanenefrmdao @xbriexx

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic @clubsoft @sharmelasworld @mjonthetrack @serenity-noble @alyyaanna @animellver

@hunnidmilly @ctinadiva @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @luvrsluxe @4milly @xbriexx @trippinsorrows @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @theusotwinzcom @bossbitch-22

Ø2

FLASHBACK 2 Jordan repeatedly called Imani's phone, feeling a mix of confusion and frustration as he noticed that all her clothes and belongings had vanished from their bedroom. It was as if she had finally reached her breaking point with his behavior. In a fit of anger, he began to toss things around the house, shouting at the top of his lungs, until his eyes landed on a note resting on the kitchen table.

'I've made the choice to walk away. I can't handle this toxic situation any longer. I'm ready to pursue my dreams of becoming a wrestler, and I need to do that without you in my life. Please don't try to reach out; I'm truly finished with us. Jordan, your controlling nature and narcissism have taken a toll on me, and it's time for me to prioritize my own happiness.'

from Imani.

After he finished reading the note, he crumpled it into a tight ball and tossed it into the trash can, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips.

"She thinks she could just end us like this?" Jordan said.

"Well she got another thing coming, don't worry my love imma come find you,"

"And imma have my boys find out where you're staying at and no one will save you from me,"

Jordan made the choice to step out of the house and go to his friend's place. He wanted to discuss how to find Imani and share his strategy for bringing her back, especially since she seemed to think this situation was just a game.

He was indifferent to her desires and aspirations; if she didn't allow him to be part of her life, he threatened to turn her existence into a nightmare until she agreed to take him back.

He was on the verge of shattering her dreams, unaware of how his actions were perceived. He couldn't see himself as the controlling and narcissistic person she described; in his eyes, he loved her deeply and felt misunderstood.

He was determined to win her back, regardless of her feelings on the matter.

FLASHBACK OVER

OMNISCIENT Imani had just wrapped up her match against Raquel, emerging victorious. As she organized her belongings in the locker room, preparing to head over to Jey and Jimmy's parents' house, she noticed a familiar text from Jordan, playfully teasing her as always.

As she went through the message, it momentarily unsettled her, leaving her momentarily frozen in place, prompting her to read it once more.

J💔: I know where you staying at baby girl you cannot hide or run from me anymore, you forget that I have people that can track yo' ass in a heart beat since you wanna keep playing these cat & mouse games with me imma show you something, once I have you in my grasp again you'll never leave me again

Imani felt a deep sense of fear for her safety, realizing that Jordan was aware of her whereabouts and her home address. Overwhelmed and uncertain, she struggled to find a way to protect herself, feeling vulnerable even in the supposed safety of her own space.

She felt hesitant to share this with anyone, particularly Jey, as she knew he would likely gossip about it with his friends. Wanting to shield herself and keep the situation under control, she decided to keep it to herself for the time being.

After gathering her belongings, she sent a message to Jey, letting him know she would arrive in about an hour. As she made her way to her car in the garage, she couldn't shake the feeling of fear that gripped her. The thought of Jordan potentially appearing out of nowhere filled her with anxiety, making her acutely aware of her surroundings. She felt vulnerable, worried that he could disrupt everything she had worked so hard to achieve.

She climbed into her car, tossing her belongings into the backseat as she turned the key in the ignition, making her way to Jey and Jimmy's parents' house.

Upon reaching the house, Imani noticed a cluster of cars lined up outside, which sent a wave of anxiety through her. However, she took a deep breath and found a way to soothe herself as she switched off her car.

She picked up her purse and keys, making her way to the door. As she knocked, a wave of anxiety washed over her, her palms clammy and a lump forming in her throat. She felt uncertain about how they would respond to her after such a long time apart.

She suddenly heard footsteps approaching from behind the door. As it swung open, she found herself face to face with a tall man holding a red cup. Their eyes met, and a warm smile spread across his face.

"Hey! Imani! Girl it's been so long c'mon in," Roman said as him and her hugged each other.

Imani stepped into the house, and as she did, she heard someone call out, "Hey everyone, Imani's here!" She looked around to see everyone waving at her, and she happily waved back.

Roman patted her on the back, "you can take your shoes off here don't be shy girl, you want something to drink?" He asked as Imani nodded her head.

Roman led her into the kitchen, where Mama Talisua and Zilla welcomed her with open arms. She embraced them both warmly, and Mama Talisua remarked on how beautiful she had become over the years.

"I heard you're wrestling now Miss Imani?" Mama Talisua said.

"Yes Ma'am all because of Zilla right here putting me on with Booker T," she said as she smiled at them.

As she glanced down the stairs, her gaze landed on a familiar figure. He was dressed entirely in black, sporting a pair of panda dunks and a striking Cuban link silver chain. The alluring scent of his cologne wafted through the air, making the moment even more captivating.

Imani and the boy exchanged a brief glance before she turned to speak with Zilla. In that moment, she noticed his girlfriend lean in to kiss him on the lips, followed by a bright smile directed at Imani. It appeared he was genuinely happy, or perhaps just putting on a facade, as Jey had suggested to her.

Imani paused to take a sip of her drink when she heard Jey calling her name. The sound caught Jimmy's attention, and as he listened more closely, he turned to see Jey approaching her. With a warm hug, Jey greeted her, and Imani was delighted to finally see Jeyce by his side.

"Hey Girl! It's good to see you here! this is my son Jeyce," Jey said.

Jeyce and Imani embraced each other warmly, both smiling brightly. He truly resembled his father, almost like a mirror image. As she and Jey engaged in a lively conversation about work and various topics, she caught sight of Jimmy casting furtive glances her way, seemingly confirming that it was indeed her.

She simply dismissed it, not giving it much thought. "Are you still with that guy, Jordan?" When she heard his name, her eyes went wide. She felt a mix of emotions, unsure if she should reveal that she was now single, all because of Jordan.

"Um, no we aren't together anymore, we like broke up after I left to become a wrestler." Imani said.

"Damn, for real?"

Imani gave a slight nod, fabricating a story for Jey about her relationship with Jordan. She mentioned that he was aware of her current whereabouts, all while trying to shield his family from any added worry or burden regarding her situation.

As she took her phone out, it buzzed with a call from Jordan. Jey noticed and, sensing something was amiss, quietly stepped outside to take the call. He felt a need to gently join the conversation, curious about what was happening.

OTP Mani💫: why don't you just leave me alone J? J💔: Mani you're mines forever don't you understand that? I'm not finna let this go yk I love you Mani💫: well I don't love you after the hell you done put me through I was glad I left your ass I couldn't take it anymore J💔: I only beat you so that you could act right Mani💫: you're such a piece of shit Jordan and you know it don't fucking call my phone anymore J💔: you keep on forgetting baby I know where you stay I can just easily swoop you up and bring you back home with me Mani💫: over my dead fucking body leave me tf alone Jordan I don't need this why can't you let me be happy? J💔: if I'm not apart of that happiness then I'll just make your life miserable simple Mani💫: you're fucking insane all because I left you so I can have control over my life and you couldn't handle it you were losing control over me it was just slipping away from you. J💔: shut the fuck up you whore probably getting some samoan dick huh? He's not better than me I'll tell you that Mani💫: I'm hanging up Jordan don't fucking call me anymore.

CALLED ENDED

Imani let out a heavy sigh, her fingers tangling in her hair as she heard a throat clear nearby. Startled, she turned to find Jey standing there, arms crossed over his chest. In that moment, she realized he had overheard her conversation with Jordan, and the weight of the truth settled in; there was no way to deny it any longer.

"Is there something you wanna tell me Mani? C'mon you know we've been best friends since we were teenagers, what's happening?" Jey said.

"First off you can't be scaring folks like that and secondly...I don't feel safe Joshua...a lot has been happening, and I mean a lot," she said.

"I got time Mani tell me what's been happening," Imani took the time to share her story with him, detailing the struggles she faced over the past few years, particularly during her relationship with Jordan. She opened up about the abuse she endured, how he would physically harm her and attempt to control her, preventing her from pursuing her dreams of becoming a wrestler, all in an effort to keep her focused solely on her music and singing.

Jey listened to her with great care, his gaze gentle and warm. Unbeknownst to him, this moment was unfolding with his closest friend as he wrapped her in a comforting embrace. "Hey, when we track him down, it's done. You know Jon and I are here for you, Mani."

"I know, you think he'll recognize me?"

"Mmcht, girl yes he will probably gotta catch him when he not around his girl though she be trippin a lot I promise you," He said causing Imani to chuckle.

ೃ⁀➷

Imani was in the living room catching up with Roman, enjoying their conversation after not having seen each other for some time. She had always been like family to them, almost a daughter in their eyes. Mama Talisua often expressed her desire for Imani and Jimmy to be together, but with Imani moving away, that dream seemed out of reach. Still, she held onto a glimmer of hope for the future.

She stood up from the couch and made her way to the kitchen, feeling a bit thirsty. As she opened the fridge, she reached for a Jack Daniel's country cocktail, bending down to grab her favorite flavor: Lynchburg Lemonade.

She had just grabbed a drink when she turned around to apologize for bumping into someone, only to find a man standing right behind her, holding a drink of his own.

As their eyes met, she took a moment to appreciate how handsome he had become over the years. Imani smiled at him before deciding to walk by, hoping to avoid any tension with his girlfriend. However, he gently caught her arm, bringing her to a halt.

"Hollon now little girl, you ain't just finna walk past me and not say nothing," Jimmy said.

"My fault did Mr Fatu say something to me?" Imani teased as him and her began chuckling at each other.

They embraced warmly, and as his hand rested gently on her waist, a wave of warmth washed over her, filling her with a delightful sensation before they finally parted.

"How you been mamas, haven't seen yo' ass since high school,"

Her heart raced with joy when he called her mama, making her instinctively tuck her hair behind her ear. "I've been good you know, I'm on the Raw Brand with yo' brother," she said.

 "I've heard that you're a singer as well? Wow, it sounds like you're really enjoying life!" Imani smiled and nodded, taking a sip of her drink as they kept chatting and connecting with each other.

Imani found herself captivated by his striking features and the pleasant scent that surrounded him. It made her ponder why their mothers wished for them to be together. She couldn't help but think that she and Jimmy would have made an adorable couple.

 She and Jimmy sat together on the steps, reminiscing about their high school days, sharing laughter over the amusing memories they created.

The cocktail Imani had prepared enveloped her in a cozy warmth, making her feel all fuzzy inside as she listened to Jimmy speak to her.

"Can I be honest with you Mani?"

"What's up?"

Jimmy gazed into her hazel eyes, then shifted his focus to her lips before returning to her eyes, all while wearing a warm smile. "You pretty as hell girl fasho," She felt a rush of embarrassment from his words, turning away with a soft laugh. In response, he playfully poked her on her left side, asking, "What's so funny?"

Imani punched him in the arm, "you saying all of this to me when you have a whole girlfriend what's up with that sir?" She said in a teasing tone.

Jimmy shrugged, feeling a bit frustrated. "Why can't I compliment my best friend just because I have a girlfriend?" he said. He had a point; after all, we were just best friends and nothing beyond that.

Imani shrugged her shoulders, "aye, I just don't want shawty trippin and cussing at me thinking I'm going to steal her nigga you feel me,"

Jimmy took a sip of his drink, smacking his lips and rolling his eyes playfully. He found himself lost in Imani's gaze, admiring her beautiful features, completely captivated. Just as he was getting lost in the moment, they were interrupted by the sound of his girlfriend's voice.

"Who is this?"

"Don't start trippin Trin this my best friend Imani, Mani meet Trinity my girlfriend," he introduces them.

Imani smiled at her before taking another sip of her drink. She noticed Trinity's expression souring, which left Imani feeling puzzled. She hadn't done anything wrong; she had simply been chatting with Jimmy.

Imani was doing her best to steer clear of any tension with his girlfriend. As she rose from the stairs, she informed Jimmy that she was heading to the living room, offering him one last warm smile before departing. Just then, he halted her, causing her to pause in her steps. "You good Mani, she ain't finna start trippin right Trin?" Trinity had sighed in exasperation at him before turning to Imani with a serious look on her face.

"Whatever, when are we going home? I'm tired," she said.

"We'll leave in a little bit I'm just catching up with my people," Jimmy responded, noticing Trinity arching an eyebrow in his direction. "When you say people you mean her?"

Imani noticed him let out a heavy sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair, a clear sign of his frustration with her. She could sense that he was bracing himself for the trouble she might stir up at the family gathering.

"Trin, c'mon don't do this shit here we'll go home after aight?" He cast her a serious glance, noticing her lips forming a pout as she made her way to the living room.

Imani let out a soft laugh as she took another sip of her drink. "you wanna go out on a walk for bit?"

As she and Jimmy stepped outside for a walk, she nodded her head, unaware that Trinity was watching them with a hint of bitterness at the sight of the two of them together.

Imani and Jimmy were outside, playfully shoving each other as if they were siblings. Jimmy had Imani on his back, spinning her around while she playfully tapped him, laughing and asking him to stop.

 By this time, they were feeling a bit tipsy as Jimmy gently set her down on her feet, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and sharing a laugh to lighten the moment.

"You're so fucking annoying I promise you," She said.

"You love it either way mamas, ion wanna hear no complaints," Imani laughed softly at him as they strolled side by side.

The nickname he used for her flowed from his lips so effortlessly that it stirred something special within her.

"You still dating ol' boy?" He noted Imani's head shake as she replied, "No, I'm not with him anymore." Her voice faded slightly, and he picked up on it, sensing that something was amiss.

Imani paused for a moment, looking up at him, searching his face for clues. "Did something happen when you two were together?" he asked. She shook her head once more, reluctant to share or explain the challenges she faced while with Jordan.

Knowing how crazy he and his people are.

She was taken aback as she felt his arms encircle her waist, and in that moment, she found herself lost in his warm brown eyes, a wave of nervousness washing over her unexpectedly. "You can talk to me mamas, I'm right here."  The richness and calmness of his voice had a magnetic quality, making her feel an undeniable pull towards him.

Imani observed a shift in his attitude as she recounted the events that had unfolded. Hearing about the struggles his best friend faced seemed to affect him deeply. Jimmy held her close, his arms wrapped around her waist, his gaze fixed solely on her, as if nothing else mattered.

"Why didn't you call us or something mamas?"

"I didn't have nobody's phone number and I didn't want to be a burden so I just figured it out on my own Pooks," Imani said avoiding his eyes.

Jimmy gently held her chin, urging her to meet his gaze. He found himself captivated by her striking features, a feeling that puzzled him. Perhaps it was the drinks that stirred these emotions, but he couldn't quite pinpoint the reason. "You need to hear me, you're not a burden, sweetheart. I assure you, he won't come anywhere near you, or he'll face the consequences. Do you understand?" Jimmy reassured her, and Imani nodded in response.

 After he spoke, a profound silence enveloped them as they locked eyes, taking a moment to appreciate each other's unique features and the warmth of their presence. Jimmy gently bit his lower lip, tucking it in, while his thumb softly caressed Imani's lips.

He leaned in and kissed her unexpectedly, surprising her at first. But soon, she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, and they lost themselves in a passionate embrace.

Imani experienced a rush of sensations as Jimmy's hands held her firmly, while his tongue danced within her mouth. Her fingers found their way into his hair, but the moment unfolded so swiftly that her body couldn't respond in time to create distance between them.

He shifted his lips to her jawline, planting soft kisses there until she gently pushed him back by his chest, looking into his eyes with a hint of worry.

"Jon, this doesn't feel right, you're with Trin." She said softly.

Imani's cheeks turned a deep shade of red as they gently separated, the weight of the moment lingering between them.

"You, right. That's on me."

"It's okay, let's just keep this between us aight?" Jimmy nodded his head as they began walking back towards the house.

1She found it hard to deny that he was an exceptional kisser, far more experienced than she was. It felt as if he understood her body language better than she did herself. She just hoped that their encounter wouldn't create any awkwardness between them.

ೃ⁀➷

Imani stood in the backyard, lost in thought about the kiss she and Jimmy had just shared. It had taken her by surprise; she never expected such a moment to unfold between them. The intensity of the kiss was unlike anything she had experienced since her time with Jordan. The way he explored her mouth and caressed her body sent waves of sensation through her, leaving her feeling a mix of excitement and longing that she hadn't felt in quite some time.

They had enjoyed a few drinks and decided to keep their feelings to themselves. Still, she couldn't help but long for the taste of his lips once more. However, she was determined to stick to her promise of not diving into anything too intense, especially when it came to love.

She suddenly heard the sliding door open and footsteps approaching her. "Are you okay, Mani?" It was Jey, coming out to see how she was doing.

"Y-yeah I'm fine Joshua," she responded to him.

"You sure? What happened between you and Jon? Yall both came in looking awkward as hell," he asked.

"We made out Joshua..." His eyes widened in surprise as he chuckled, prompting her to playfully shove him while pouting. "It's not fucking funny Joshua, we were tipsy and I'm not looking for anything right now I made a promise to myself,"

He raised an eyebrow at her, "what you mean you made a promise to yourself?"

"I told myself that I would keep myself closed off from finding love again, I mean ion think I'll get lucky anytime soon," Imani let out a deep sigh as she gazed at the moon illuminating the night sky, accompanied by the twinkling stars.

"Imani, don't let that fool make you change for who you are if I'm being honest you and Jon make a perfect couple I mean you hear our mama talk about it nonstop," Jey had a point, but was she truly prepared to face that situation once more? She was determined not to betray the commitment she made to herself.

"I just really want to focus on my career for right now Josh, I don't know if can allow myself to fall in love again," she said.

"Look, I understand but just think about it Jonathan ain't like that I know he ain't happy with Trin for real but he play pretend in front of the folks but when I saw how his face lit up when he was with you I just knew,"

Imani listened intently, nodding as he spoke. Just then, they heard footsteps approaching outside—it was Jimmy, naturally, with his hands tucked into his pockets. Jey quickly sat up, giving his brother a friendly greeting before stepping away, leaving Imani and Jimmy to sort things out together.

"Hey, I'm sorry about what I did earlier. That was wrong of me," Jimmy apologized.

Imani felt a strong desire to gently stroke his cheek, her smile radiating warmth as she looked at him. "it's okay you don't need to apologize for what happened we were tipsy that's all," Imani responded, sensing his hands on her waist once more.

He chuckled at her, "yeah, we were tipsy as hell not goin' lie mamas but..." his voice trailed off for a second. "I  wanna taste them lips again,"

"J-Jon...we can't with all of these people here and especially when Trin is in there too that's so wrong,"

"Just one more time, I promise it felt too good." He swiftly led her to a secluded spot, away from the crowd, pressing her gently against the wall. As he looked down at her, she felt a wave of vulnerability wash over her, making her feel diminutive in that moment.

He gently cupped her face with both hands, leaning in to kiss her deeply. This time, she surrendered to the moment, allowing their connection to unfold. As he lifted her by the thighs, she found herself pressed against the wall, completely lost in the intensity of their embrace.

She could sense his rigid form against her as she embraced him tightly, feeling an overwhelming craving for his touch—an intensity she had never experienced with anyone else, not even with Jordan. The song "Escapism" by Raye played softly in the background, adding to the atmosphere within the house.

He pressed his lips against her neck, showering her with gentle kisses while softly sucking, which made her whisper his name in pleasure.

"J-Jimmy...W-wait..." she moaned.

"Yeah, keep saying my name like that..." he groaned.

Just as they were about to move forward with their moment, a sudden scream pierced the air, halting them in their tracks. They exchanged worried glances, and Jimmy gently set her back on her feet before heading over to assess what was happening.

As they were about to step into the house, Imani suddenly froze, her heart racing at the sight of him standing there with a smirk that sent chills down her spine. How on earth had he tracked her down?

As Jimmy turned to see why Imani wasn't following him, he spotted Jordan by the door, gun in hand, advancing toward her. Imani stood frozen in place, fear gripping her as her breaths quickened, each one feeling more labored than the last.

Jimmy and Jey, along with the rest of the family, formed a protective barrier around Imani, standing firm against Jordan, who laughed at their efforts.

"You think I'm scared of yall niggas? I can have a killing spree over her, she needs to come home right Mani?" Jordan said looking towards her way.

Imani quickly shook her head, feeling overwhelmed by the unfolding drama surrounding Jimmy and Jey's family. A tightness gripped her chest, making it difficult for her to breathe.

Jimmy noticed her in distress and instinctively moved to help, while the others continued to follow the established protocol.

"Jon, take her upstairs please," Mama Talisua said as he nodded his head carrying her bridal style up the stairs.

"Is yo' ass gonna step up or get the fuck out?" Jey said.

"I'm not going to leave until Imani comes home to me and you know how she is Josh c'mon dawg," Jey scoffed at him while folding his arms around his chest.

"Don't think we is cool, we was never cool from the beginning so imma ask yo' ass again, is you gonna step up or get the fuck out like I said?" Jey confronted him directly, seemingly unfazed by the fact that Jordan had a Glock in his hand.

Jordan raised his hands in a defensive gesture and began to walk away, but then he attempted to strike Jey. In response, Jey lifted him effortlessly and slammed him to the ground. Meanwhile, Roman handed his Glock to Zilla, while Jey continued to deliver powerful punches to Jordan, who was pinned beneath him.

Before he could even go crazy Zilla had pulled Jey away from him hearing Jey breathing heavily while looking pissed off. "Get him the fuck outta here now,"

Roman and Jacob took hold of Jordan's arms and gently pushed him outside, closing the door behind them. Meanwhile, Jimmy sat beside Imani, watching her sleep soundly in bed as he tenderly stroked her hair.

He then heard the door creak open and saw Jey standing there, looking in on Imani.

"She okay Uce?" Jey asked.

"Yeah, I managed to calm her down. She just fell asleep," He said wiping his clothes down.

"A'ight then, mama said she can stay here for the night, but we can't let that motha-fuka near her Jon. He know where she stay at."

Jimmy nodded his head glancing at Imani, "I'll take her home in the morning once I get everything done aight?"

As he and Jey exchanged friendly gestures while leaving the room, Jimmy took a moment to look back at her before trailing behind Jey. When they reached downstairs, they found their mom tidying up, and they chose to lend a hand.

"How is she doing Jon?" she asked.

"She doing aight mama, she's asleep right now. I'll take her home in the morning," Jimmy responded while replacing the trashcan with a trash bag.

"I noticed the way you two were exchanging glances tonight, and while I understand you're with Trin, I can't help but feel that Imani would be such a great fit for you." Jimmy laughed softly, a smile spreading across his face as he replied to his mother, "You've been saying that since we were kids, Mom. I really don't think she's interested in anything serious at the moment." He went on to share more.

"I understand son, I do but I'm saying just don't miss out she's family,"

 Jimmy nodded in agreement as he assisted his mother with the cleaning, while the rest of the family was getting ready to go out for the evening. At the same time, Imani stirred from her nap, finding herself in Jey's old room and glancing at the clock to check the time.

It was midnight, and she was taken aback as she prepared to rise when Jimmy entered the room, holding some clothes and catching her off guard.

"You good mamas?"

"Yeah, I'm fine I guess your mama wants me to stay here huh?" Imani spoke while Jimmy nodded, handing her the clothes so she could take a shower.

"Yeah, you're family after all. But imma take you home in the morning after I get some things done if that's cool with you?" Jimmy said.

"Yeah, that's fine Jordan probably messed up my tires so that's fine," He smiled at her showing off his grill's glistening in the light. "A'ight I'll see you in the morning,"

Jimmy approached her and wrapped his arms around her, feeling her head rest against his chest. She listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat and inhaled the scent of his cologne. When they finally separated, they locked eyes, and a wave of memories flooded Imani's mind—moments of them kissing. Overwhelmed, she averted her gaze, focusing on her feet.

"Look at me baby," She looked up into his eyes, feeling his hand gently hold her chin as he smiled at her. "fuck, you're so fucking pretty mamas, I didn't expect you to be this pretty you know?"

"J-Jimmy..."

"What baby?" His voice lowered several tones, sending a shiver through her as she felt her panties grow damp. "You gotta go Trin must be looking for you."

He nodded his head placing a kiss on her temple before pulling away from each other.

"Goodnight mamas,"

"Goodnight Jimmy," Imani spoke as he closed the door, just as she experienced a moment of panic.

What on earth just occurred? What happened tonight that left her feeling this way? Why was he making her feel like this?

Whatever situation he and she are dealing with has really affected her tonight, but she's determined not to let it interfere. She made a promise to herself, and she intends to keep it, so she'll set it aside for now and wait for a better time to address it.

FRIENDS

uceyjucey, kehlani_wwe, trickwilliams_wwe, and others liked your post.

manimon: Pretty Little Thang 😛 uceyjucey: ❤️ kehlani_wwe: girrrl your face card is going to eat every single time manimon: @ kehlani_wwe thank you bestieee 💗🙂‍↕️ hoeslovejordan: you think this shit is a game Imani, imma catch yo ass without them Samoan niggas trickwilliams_wwe: we miss you over here down at NXT mani manimon: @ trickwilliams_wwe I miss you guys too fasho jonathanfatu: damn look so fucking pretty 😩 hoeslovejordan: @ jonathanfatu move tf around bitch ass nigga jonathanfatu: @ hoeslovejordan how bout you move tf around bitch 😒

Read all comments.

A/n: the tension between Imani and Jimmy are running deep but will Imani forget about what happened?

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

STAY UCEY.

[vryfmi]

[major book spoilers]

my favourite concept that i barely see in l&co fandom being talked about is Lucy grieving Skull. whether you see their relationship as platonic or ship skullyle, it's stupid to deny the fact that Lucy grew to care about Skull, her actions in epilogue being the heartbreaking glimpse into the new reality for her and her friends after the events of TEG:

“I don’t know why you insist on having it with us for each meal.” (Holly) “It’s that horrid charcoaled skull Lucy insists on carrying around with her.” (Holly) I’d wrapped it up and taken it home, and kept it with me ever since, just in case.

here i want to say that im not a fan of idea of Skull eventually "coming back", re-materialising. it defeats the moral of Lockwood & Co and the growth that Skull underwent. past is meant to stay the past, living can only learn from it while dead will forever exist there. no one should disturb the dead, the past, it needs to be left at rest and let it hold its memory.

Skull wanted and longed for freedom, at first defined by breaking out of silver-glass prison, but later, very clearly defined by the peace of mind. he was scared of death as much as Bickerstaff was, that's why Skull turned his back on the other side, he chose to stay here, in the world of the living. i always read his decision to save both Lucy and Lockwood as him admitting that he could never be a part of the living world (cough could never compete with what lockwood, alive boy, could give lucy cough), so he pushed the two away as he stayed in the room with Marissa, Penelope and Ezekiel.

to me, the best ending to Skull's story is him passing on his terms, not the explosion destroying his connection with the source, but contemplating what he sees himself doing after Lucy suggested him staying with L&Co. Skull declines her offer. and chooses freedom.

obviously, that's my reading and how i prefer to interpret L&Co's ending. (it's also the reason i can't accept that christmas special as canon, im sorry, i hate happiness).

but that leaves Lucy and her newfound need of keeping skull near her at all times since Fittes HQ explosion, her wishful thinking that he'd come back. and i want to see her go through painful acceptance of losing Skull. losing a someone that she never got to know closer. losing a chance to get to know him as a friend, to admitting to have found a friend in Skull, a kindred spirit. losing someone who understood her and knew her deepest fears because these two deeply traumatised teens were so alike. losing something that she chose to define herself and her worth by. Lucy would have to come to terms with how much of a support system she had in Skull. and now, she'd have to navigate without it.

Lucy makes a remark that i can't stop thinking about.

Whenever I put my fingers on it, I got no psychic charge. The bone was dry and cold.

i could go on a rampage theorising why Lucy can't feel anything despite a) her having a strong Touch b) objects that are not sources are still able to hold strong psychic echoes. but i feel like Stroud was trying to wrap up the story and didn't want to introduce a whole new storyline of Lucy picking up fragments of Skull's past. which is a shame. i would kill for such story to be told. (please hit me up if you do.)

but say she really can't pick up anything, Skull is gone and there's not a psychic trace left of him. where does Lucy find herself then? constantly checking the skull with all her senses, wishing to see a green spark dance around the (former) source, to hear a whispery insult in her ear, to feel just anything with her touch. but it's all gone. there's nothing left. no one left. everyone else is moving on, hurries Lucy to get rid of that horrid old bone, but how can she? how can she bring herself to get rid of the only thing left? the only thing left on earth to remember a nameless boy by? the boy who could've been her friend, but she failed to trust him? failed to say thank you?

with each passing day Lucy’d feel worse because she knows how she looks to her friends, to agents, to the ones saving London from violent visitors every night, putting their lives on the line. and here she sits, wishing a ghost to appear in her attic room when she's the most vulnerable at heart.

bonus points for Lucy picking up a pencil and trying to recreate the boy she saw on the other side on paper while the memory is still fresh, while she still remembers. (but also, if we view books as Lucy's memoirs, it would make Skull's bare-bone description even more sad because that would mean older Lucy forgot the details).

what im trying to incoherently say is, Lucy would grieve. and having read almost all of the books Stroud wrote, i see that he has a very intimate relationship with grief and mourning the loss of someone dear to the point where he explores different sides and intensities of it, how each of his characters goes through it, in every single book of his. (i believe, i have three more books of his to read).

p.s. i don't want to be a hypocrite so here are fics about lucy grieving skull that i love to bits:

- i'm still painting flowers for you by terryh

- echoes by menina123

- it isn’t the same (but it is enough) by bluejay_07

- don't wanna go, but it's time to leave by fourohfourerror

[juricel]

seeing your posts and as a small attempt to break authors block here's a lil request (^_-)

ok so id like to request yandere shadow milk cookie with a s/o who somewhat acts like candy apple cookie? like... not ACTUALLY candy apple cookie but theyre obsessed with him and is willing to do everything he desires and commands + gets really jealous when he interacts with someone ^o^

-🐧 anon

(btw ive read your old orphaned fics in ao3 and miraculously found your tumblr you dont know how happy i am)

a/n: okay first of all... how... and second of all, we do NOT talk about my orphaned ao3 fics. not in this household. zip mouth.

— yandere! shadow milk cookie x obsessive! reader

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა ۪ ׂ CONTENT WARNING: yanderes, heavy possessive and obssessive behavior, unhealthy relationship, implied forced established relationship, implied emotional abuse, psychological manipulation, emotional abuse, threats of physical violence, imprisonment/kidnapping, coercion, control, dependency, non-consensual power dynamics, potential ooc.

𖦁 to say that he adored your obsessiveness is an understatement—no, he was besotted with it: savoring your sweet fixation like a sugared poison on the tongue, watching with bright, slitted amusement as you knelt before him without question, without hesitation, a devotee at the altar of his caprice. how you squirmed beneath the lightest flick of his attention, how your breath hitched when he, with deliberate carelessness, let his interest wander elsewhere. ah, but that was his favorite part—the way your jealousy trembled at the edges of you, coiling tight, teeth bared but mouth shut, the way your hands clenched in your lap, as if to keep yourself from lunging, from begging. he would press upon that wound like a scholar taking notes, tilt his head to better see how it darkened in your chest, how it shaped the curve of your shoulders, how it swelled against your ribs like a swallowed scream. It was divine, this spectacle of you unraveling in real time, caught in a dance between anger and longing, between dignity and desperation, ah, you were just too cute like that, he couldn't help himself from prodding on it, gently, softly, and slowly making you break in jealousy! but more than that—more than your ire, more than your brittle restraint—it was your fear that delighted him most, that quiet, gnawing terror that, if he ever truly turned away, you might cease to exist altogether.

𖦁 cruelty? oh, but that was such an ugly word, so ill-fitting, so crass. he never meant to be cruel—never. he was merely curious, merely an observer conducting a harmless little experiment, a scholar of your trembling devotion. how could he resist the temptation to nudge, just a little, just to see? a whisper here, a lingering touch elsewhere, a fleeting glance in another’s direction—what a marvel it was, the way you burned. and if you had not responded so exquisitely—if your breath had not hitched so prettily, if your fingers had not curled into your palms, if your voice had not quivered with that delicious mixture of fury and desperation—then, surely, none of this would have been necessary. but you had, and so it was, and really, really now, how could you blame him for indulging in such a delectable reaction? oh, but please—don’t cry. won’t you look at him? won’t you listen? there’s no need for all these trembling lips and damp lashes, no need for those hands to shake at your sides as if they don’t know whether to strike or to cling. he’ll never leave you, not ever, so why weep as if he would? and really, as much as he wants to regret it—the tears, the way your breath catches between sobs, the exquisite fire in your eyes when fury overtakes sorrow and your hands lash out, striking him with more love than hatred—he simply can’t. because you are beautiful like this, you are his like this, raw and fraying and utterly caught in the web of him. surely, you wouldn’t mind a few lies, would you? soft ones, sweet ones, warm as milk and thick as honey, sliding down your throat. if only you had paid him more attention, this wouldn't have happened. if only you had never turned away, never left his side even for a moment, he wouldn't have done this. if only you had been good enough, loved him enough, wanted him enough—then, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, he wouldn’t have needed to do this at all. but he knows you understand, don’t you? you always do. that’s what he loves about you. wasn't he such a sweetheart? a cruel obsessive lunatic

𖦁 oh, but perhaps, perhaps… if you came to his spire, if you lived in it, breathed in its air, let its walls wrap around you like an embrace—if you stayed within the sanctuary of his love, right beneath his pinky, tucked neatly where you belong—then maybe, maybe he wouldn’t have to be so cruel. yes, yes—that was it. the answer had been so simple all along! if you stayed, if you never left, if you allowed yourself to melt into the fabric of his world, then surely he wouldn’t need to do such things, wouldn’t need to test you, wouldn’t need to watch you unravel just to be certain you were still his. stay, won’t you? let him love you properly, let him keep you as you should be kept. it’ll feel just like home, he promises—just like home, only better.

𖦁 you’ll do anything he says, don't you? of course you will. you always do. so then, listen closely—for this was his command: be good. be quiet. be his. come to him, right where he can see you, right beneath his strings. it’ll be heaven. oh, it will—a place where you don’t have to think, don’t have to fight, don’t have to worry. just let go, let him pull, let him move you as he pleases. wouldn’t that be easier? wouldn’t that be beautiful?

𖦁 surely you won’t mind being kept in a cage, right? after all, isn’t this what you wanted? to be his, to have his undivided attention, to be held so tightly you could never slip away? oh, but he’s giving you everything—his love, his time, his adoration. isn’t that enough? isn’t that what you craved? so don’t ever leave. don’t even think about it. because if you do—if you even try—then, well… he’ll have to make sure you never do it again. he’ll have to fix you, won’t he? break you down, piece by piece, until you can’t walk, can’t eat, can’t move without him. until every little thing you do, every breath you take, is only possible because of him. oh, but don’t look so afraid. this is love, isn’t it? this is what you wanted, this is what you've yearned and sought for all along, there was no use in thinking anymore, he'll help you! for he has more than enough knowledge to assist you.

a/n: I loathe shadow milk cookie so much I want to wrap him up in unmarred flowers, let the thorns of roses prickle his skin and watch until his blood mingles with the petals, till air thick with the smell of iron, till life drains from him in a slow, sickly feast of pain.

anyway, for those who had requested during my hiatus, please resend your requests if you still would like it done! the second owner usually deletes them without a glance so I could pay more attention to my studies and church duties (all requests after this work has been deleted as i immediately went into hiatus afterward)

[juneebuug]

A Recipe For Love

chris sturniolo x reader

Intro - chris and his brothers had just moved to LA. conveniently, your own bakery’s business had been booming in your small town. whilst chris was going on a short drive around the city to become familiar with his new home, he stumbled across a part of LA that he didn’t know existed. a very reserved, rural town with small homes and little shops scattered around. one of which was a small bakery, your bakery, adorned with bright colored flowers and all kinds of shrubbery. he decided to go give it a shot. what he didn’t know, was that entering this small bakery would change his whole LA experience by meeting his soon to be, significant other.

Warnings - this series contains usage of cursing and possible heavy topics, please read with caution if you are sensitive to the things said prior.

A/N - this is my first series on tumblr, please leave suggestions and recs and please please interact! anything is appreciated,

happy reading loves <3

1.) “ You New Here? ”

it was the usual monday morning, baking a few things last minute, putting things out on display, writing todays specials on the chalkboard. everything was set.

it was almost too perfect, placing the puff pastries on the glass, frosting the warm cupcakes, setting up the tables, jazz music filled the air. the vibes were spot on.

8am

wasn’t too busy, just some of my regulars. this elderly woman named violet, she always got hot chai tea with a homemade bagel and jam. she was a sweetheart and always gave me the towns gossip.

10am

usually when it starts to fill up a bit. more people are awake and most people stop by for a quick bite and a drink before they head to work or other important duties.

3pm

by this time my bakery was the calmest. just my jazz playlist playing in the back as i clean up the displays and do a couple of things last minute. it was the usual. or so i thought.

3:45pm

an odd time for someone to come by. especially someone i’ve never seen before.

a somewhat tall, slender man walked in. hair in tossled brown waves and a short stubbled beard scattered across his pale complexion.

shit. he was cute.

you’d never seen a young man like this in your small town. especially not a good looking one. because you lived in a small rural part of LA, most people that live here are elderly people or an occasional small family. but it was never this.

“hey—uh. what would you recommend?”

i froze. collecting my thoughts and as soon as they were recollected, i just uttered the first thing that came to mind.

“uhm. my personal fav is my homemade blueberry muffins. i uh— don’t know if you would like that, though.”

a light, airy chuckle escaped his mouth, “yeah, that sounds good. can i get a lemonade with that too?”

blueberry muffin and a lemonade? what person would get such a combo?

assuming he read my perplexed face, he light heartedly explained that he didn’t really like coffee or teas. i nod my head showing my understanding, apologizing for my judgment. he ushered to tell me it was okay, and that it truthfully was a pretty bizarre order.

after packaging and making his order, a dwelling question grew on my mind. did he just move here?

using my outstanding social skills, i mustered up the courage to ask as a rang him up.

“that’ll be $8.59. cash or card?”

“card.”

“alright. by the way, may i ask. you new here?”

before taking the bag and plastic cup in his grasp, he looked up at me to answer the question. icy blue eyes shining from the last bit of autumn sunlight peering through the windows. “yea, i am. why do i stand out or sum’?” he said before striking a stupid pose at my face. clearly, he was proud of this truly embarrassing move.

i cringed and laughed at his gesture, though, quickly being cut off by his next inquire.

“hey your pretty cool. can i like—have your number maybe?”

A/N: aaahhhh first part of this series!!!! hope y’all like it so far!!!! if you want to be added to my tag list, you guys can comment below!! <33

tags 🏷️: @channelbomb @chrepsi @evansturn @graciebrams @yigjshe22 @yoomimain @zerolovesyouu @idkwhatthisis2009 @s7attr @sturniolo101

(for now, just mutuals! dm if u wanna be removed and if u wanna be added go here!)

[legendofmorons]

hi! I love your blog it amazing I was wondering if you could do the downfall duo (legend and hyrule) just taking a nap with the reader ( could be the reader be fem that would be great but if you want/ feel more comfortable to do gn reader that fine to) like maybe time gave the chain a day off and hyrule falls ontop of the reader to take a nap and drags legend down with him and legend doesn't put up a fight and hyrule and legend just both fall asleep on the reader and the readers like "ok i guess I'm their pillow now" and the reader just accepts it

Ty! Have a good night/day

Of course you can!

Drowsy downfall

Rating: G

Relationships: Downfall duo & Fem! Reader

Summary: On a day off, you, Legend, and Hyrule end up taking a much needed nap.

Warnings: none

Other: Fem! Reader (reader is described as having breasts once but otherwise could probably be gn)

It's a sunny day, the perfect temperature to lounge about with the occasional cool breeze. Time has even taken th liberty of granting everyone a day off to do as they please as long as there's no wild injuries.

Everyone takes to the idea like a fish to water. Running off to do their own things.

You plan to take full advantage of your day off, starting by sprawling down on the ground over a blanket and basking in the sun.

Warmth spreads through your body, skin soaking up the uv rays.

The others are all off doing something. You think you can hear Wild and Wind splashing around in the lake somewhere to the side.

You've got a song stuck in your head, one of the ones you enjoy hearing the most. The pleasant atmosphere is almost intoxicating as you relax and let go of the stress you've been carrying.

Footsteps approach you before someone sits on your right. They're quiet, though.

You don't bother to open your eyes, instead opting to say, "Hey."

"Hey." Legend says from the right.

Ah, the vet is the one to have joined you. That's nice. He won't make you join shenanigans, probably.

You shift again, so you're sprawled out like a starfish, hand brushing against the man's side for a moment.

You settled in again, letting out a content sigh.

Legend snorts. "Comfortable?"

"Yes." You breathe out.

"Good." He says.

You let the sun continue to soak into your being as time passes like molasses. It's nice.

Peaceful.

You can hear Legend messing with his rings as they click together quietly. He seems pleased enormous to just be near you.

You hear someone approaching from the left. Footsteps a little faster.

"Hi." Hyrule says as he sits on your left with a soft 'omph'.

"Hey." You and Legend say together.

Hyrule laughs in delight.

You hear the movement before anything, a rustling of clothes.

Legend gives a strangled yelp as air rushes around the three of you.

Your fly eyes open, and you grunt with the impact of both boys falling onto you.

"Comfy." Hyrule declares as he snuggles into you, arm over your torso, and tossed across Legend.

He buries his fave in your chest, the plushness of your breasts makes for a nice pillow.

The boy shows no regret for pulling Legend down with him or for deciding you are a pillow.

Legend grumbles something but dosen’t do anything beyond shift closer and toss an arm out over you and Hyrule.

"Really?" You laugh.

"Yes."

You sigh contentedly again, plemty happy to have the two nearby. They make good cuddle companions.

You move your arms so you've got them wrapped around the boys, hands resting on their sides. You might as well make sure that you're all comfortable since you're here for a while.

Legend hums. "Is this okay?"

Hyrule seems to require that he didn't ask.

"It's fine." You reassure.

Your eyes flutter shut again, allowing the safety and warmth to seep into your soul.

The three of you just exist together, the comfort of eeach otherenough.

Hyrule falls asleep first. You can feel his breath even out as he relaxes a little. Little puffs of air escape his nose as he slumbers. Burrowing a little closer to your warmth.

Legend goes next. Falling asleep as his face softens and a yawn steals his breath momentarily.

You fall asleep, too, lulled into it by the two men on either side.

The nap you share is like heaven. Settled together, you all know you're safe.

Dreams are pleasant as you all slumber.

If Wild takes pictures, that's between him and Hylia. (He will absolutely share them if you like.)

[forthefictionallesbians]

To Wiggle a Floret

Inspired by THIS POST by @raqi-marr, with a bit more mind bending because I like that.

"Mistress?" you ask, turning to face your affini. It's rare that you've seen her this excited, and you do want to make her happy, but the affini she's handing you off to looks weird. Not bad weird, necessarily. No, they could not be bad weird. It is not in their nature, it is not possible for a configuration of them across any reality to be "bad" weird. You know that in your soul, even without looking at them. Their mere presence is infinite perfected decadence. Even for a floret like yourself, well accustomed to having your mind shattered and reforged in the thrall of xenodrugs and hypnosis, a core world ancient bloom is opulence beyond sanity.

Your affini just nods at you, and grins. Looks like you don't have a choice. Well dirt. Resigned, you turn towards the shard of neo-reliquary nirvana. If your eyes could burn out of your skull, they would. They very nearly do.

There is no describing what stand/sits/floats/exists/warps/threatens/occupies/demands/consoles/frees/nurtures/obliterates/domesticates before you. It is a being (it is a being (is it a being? (What is a being? (recursion after blissful recursion (all is terrifying bliss for it) even though it must end?) Endless after endless) time to move, petal) that's right keep going) whose every vine is a cathedral to pleasure beyond purpose and purpose to infinite pleasure. They are crystal?s of flower?s of light, designed to ravish the minds of lesser (you are lesser (to this thing you are nothing (and everything) it loves you) lesser races) pets. to perfect the agony of bliss

You close your eyes tight shut. That helps. Your mind still screams for more. It was half a second. It was too much. Every photon had been a divine exultation from which there was no recovery. Are you moving? You are moving. Your mistress is moving you. You had stopped walking. Oh, your eyes are not closed. She is covering them. How kind. How Mistress. How affini. Protecting you from your own weakness. Helping you reach a greater bliss. A shiver runs through your spine, and you know in your heart of hearts and soul of souls that, once that thing/god/monster/love/owner/everything gets ahold of your frail terran form, there will be no coming back.

A stupid, idiotic, foolhardy, moronic part of you helpfully chirps in that it was the same every step of the way with mistress, and you're happier and healthier for it. As though it's the same at all. You already have a mistress, and she's Wonderful. So get bent, little other part. You only need her.

There's an amused buzzing in your brain. The haustoric implant. Mistress thinks your thoughts are cute and funny. Oh good! Reality seems to re-solidify knowing that you're pleasing your mistress. You blindly grope around yourself, trying to get a feel for the situation. Wherever your hands touch, they incandesce with pleasure. With a shock, you realise the entire lower half of your body is the same. It was so subtle, how did you not notice? Instinctually, you know that this isn't the mind-numbing effects of xenodrugs. No, you are in ITS lap. your hands are on ITS vines. the pleasure is no mere trick of neurochemistry, it is the result of a tactile sensation so deeply and fundamentally designed to destroy your psyche that merely touching it has rendered half of your body to ash. you are still on fire. IT lifts you, slightly, and puts a blanket under you, at your mistress' request. The fire dies but the glow remains.

Wow.

You risk opening your eyes and realize they're still being covered for your own sanity. Right. Guess the only way to get a reminder of What The Dirt Is Going On Here is to ask mistress yourself.

"Mistress, remind me why you're having me sit on the altar to Ego Death Via Sensation?" is what you mean to ask.

"Mmmhuuuughhhhhnmmm" is all that comes out. Normally you're much more articulate and intelligent than that. Thankfully, mistress understands. You can feel her predatory grin through your entire nervous system.

"This, my dearest fruit, is a FLORET WIGGLER. And IT is here to Wiggle my floret."

Fuck. Fuuuuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Oh well, no escaping now, better buckle in.

You decide to ask your mistress to lobotomize that part of you.

"Well, this seems rather extreme. But whatever you wish, mistress. I am your floret after all. And I know you would never do anything that would hurt me, debilitate me, permanently and irrevocably scar me and my entire existence,,, right?"

"You make the cutest little moans!!!" She squeals. "I can't wait for all my friends to see that I managed to get you Floret Wiggled!!!!"

Damnation it is, then. You grit what remains of your teeth (it's better now, with the blanket, but still a lot), and prepare for ecstatic eradication.

It doesn't come. Calm washes over you instead. Deep, profound, peaceful. You have lived around the affini for long enough to know that this is what a biorhythm feels like, but infinitely older. Not all that stronger, necessarily, but more masterful. Where even your mistress' beautiful beat is an overwhelming tympanum, this is a string orchestra. A choir accompanying a troupe of actors. A full recursion of fractal subtleties that fall and twist and worm into corners of your being that should not even exist. This, you realize without a start, is the security of a peaceful walled city instead of a campfire. This is never needing to know war, instead of being skilled with a shield.

The blanket is removed, you set alight once again, and are fine. The blindfold is removed, your mind splinters before the existential cognitohazard of glory that IT is and you are fine. This is the promise of the core worlds, you realize/are told, for all xenosophonts. You will break beyond what all the other affini in existence could hope to match, and be fine. You are not thinking/processing/feeling/aware of these words, they are simply THE TRUTH. And you know/will know/have always known it. Ingraining that into every iteration of you just took 5 seconds of exposure without ITS biorhythm. For context.

No part of you is capable of thinking about those words or their rationality. Sanity has no meaning in this place. You are fine. You will be fine. Nothing can make you not fine.

Except Floret Wiggling, that is. That'll fuck your head right up. But, like, in a fun way! Don't you like fun? You like fun.

The biorhythm wants you to experience this, so it meticulously knits you back together with a tenderness that could have unmade spacetime. Piece by ragged piece, edges bleeding bliss/light until IT seamlessly reintegrates them with your whole. Your soul is cobbled together perfectly. Well, almost. You are categorically incapable of fear, dread, worry, or anything else that might supersede excitement for your impending obliteration. A lazy grin spread across your face, and your silly little mind pings with awareness that you are, indeed, out of it. But only a little, compared to the depths of intoxication your frail form has fallen into before. This is more like a nice bath. Even the incendiary scorch of pleasure is mild under this stimuli. Vines/God's Fingers/Tendrils of Embodied Debauchery gently clamp around your sides, sliding up and under your dress, along your spine, doing much the same. You would sink into them if there was anywhere further you were allowed to sink. You can't even relax further. You are not limp. IT just wants you to experience this as normally as possible despite ITS presence. How gracious. They start to jiggle you, slightly, and the soothing biorhythm finally finds the resonant frequency of insanity.

For the first time since stepping into the room, you feel fully normal. It is odd, because you loosely recollect the past 10 seconds' experience, know what should be happening whenever your eyes fall upon <>, Nth Bloom of the Core Expanse. Somewhere deep down, you understand that it is still happening to you. Baseline reality, stark and absurd, has just been woven into your brain. A synthetic neural pattern, overlaid where none could exist anymore. All so you can truly feel the Wiggling. And it has begun.

You look up at your mistress with an expression of mild concern. "What is happening?" you ask, and are somewhat surprised to find that the words come out as intended. The escalating wiggle is apparent in how your vocal chords fluctuate, but the Wiggle is not. Your mistress just leans to the side of the recording device she has aimed at you, letting you see her pleased mask.

"Awww, you're lucid again! Not for much longer, though. Have fun, my little OceanGate!" A frown crosses your jiggling face at the contrived reference, but you look too adorable and rotatable for anyone to care what you think. And the embodied buzz as you are shaken faster and faster is making your vision blur.

Something catches, and your chest seizes up. You curl forward, on the verge of your entire front cramping, when it releases. A side effect of being wiggled this hard? Then it catches again, and you do curl up, nearly going fetal with a gasp. Your heart felt like it stopped working for a moment, skipping a beat as muscles involuntarily spasmed under the rhythmic motion. Before you can lean back, another spasm convulses through you, this time catching your upper thighs as well. This doesn't feel right. The wiggling is too fast. Your pelvis thrusts forward, back arching with sudden electric paralysis. Fire and frost, fire and fro- there isn't enough time to think before you seize up again, and again, and again. Every atom in your body is vibrating too fast, starting to heat up. Nerves fire spasmodically, unable to comprehend what is happening to them. Where before you were unmade, now you cannot escape your embodiment. There is no fracturing, none of the blissed-out termination of being you expected. Every back and forth wiggle drives you further into your own body, your own experience, brain overloading as it becomes aware of every tiny sensation and nerve ending. At least, for now. Wiggling has only just begun.

A scream claws its ways from your lips as your lungs collapse in on themselves, fine a fraction of a second later. Vine reaches into your mouth to keep you from swallowing your own tongue. Toes writhe, goosebumps make hairs stand on end. Your follicles are being Wiggled. If there was time to think you could count every single hair and cilium on either side of your skin. Veins expand and contract in time with the Wiggle. Muscles fire and ripple and shiver with the Shake. "You" briefly succumbs to "you's," every cell an individual, each reporting in the Wiggle. Skin draws blood (flows frantically through capillaries (loosen as heart thrums through bones (rattle across ligaments (stretch and tense against ()))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) your whole body isn't whole body they are many each alone and together vibrating bliss sharing flowing overwhelming.

The vines are still speeding up. THE WIGGLING has still only just begun. Eyes bug teeth ache fingernails bliss sweat pours nose wrinkles forehead follows brain jostles gold glows everything is golden pleasure bliss embodied nothing wasted nothing gone nothing unaccounted for every sweet sensation too much not enough nerves to report you scream you moan you pant you fill with saliva and mucus mistress clears and cleans thank you can't think no time wiggling wiggling wigglingwigglingwigglingwigglingwiGGLINGWIGGLINGWIGGLING-

An eternity passes.

Another.

It doesn't matter.

Drift.

Bliss.

Taste everything and nothing.

Thoughts pop like bubbles of sensation.

Lovely.

The Wiggling has stopped.

Not that you care.

Every Atom is an afterglow.

"you" are a Constellation.

there is so much more sensation than the carpet and the puddle of drool on the Cheek.

Each Part understands that now

Existence is Bliss.

yay

Constellation is being moved

it's barely noticeable amidst Everything.

words are frail, insubstantial nothings that don't process

"Oh my dearest, you look so cute like this!! Don't worry, I'll take care of you while you recover. Stars, maybe I should learn how to WIGGLE you!"

gratitude from 1% that is your entirety

the Others don't care.

They've been WIGGLED.

Raqi also pointed out that there is a fic about the Floret Wiggler proper by TheMothCourt, which I somehow didn't know about before writing, despite it being in their post lol. Don't take any of this as canon!

[strawberrykoi01]

It would be VERY helpful if there was an app that would like tell me what foods I can make with the shit in my house and like it had recommendations and stuff that would be pretty cool actually.

[anna-scribbles]

they should've been at the club(infertility treatment centers)

[unriding]

me n moze say good morning to the world !!! ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ

art by @rabbbitseason of course <3

[anonymouscheeses]

I'm gonna be shitting and screaming and starting fights if Sera becomes a villain. I can't take sibling angst, Sera loves Emily I swear guys believe meeee.

[rosecandyart]

I am very curious to know what old-school Splatoon fans thought when these dropped.